


Sparks Fly

by TheMightyChipmunk



Series: Reddie Meet-Cute AUs [14]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Date, F/M, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 23:43:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21024188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyChipmunk/pseuds/TheMightyChipmunk
Summary: "So it went well?"“Bevvy, you’re forgetting the topic sentence of this story: it was basically a disaster.”“Oh, drama-Richie is back again.”“With a vengeance. Anyway, we chatted for a bit,” Richie said easing into his Love Island Voice, “Had a strong banter. He was totally my type on paper, total bev. But then, get this, he said he had a partner… and he had a ring on his finger. I didn’t notice at first, but he’s fecking married. I felt like a complete dickhead.” Richie liked that the accent helped soften the actual feeling of hurt.“Oh, baby.” Bev cooed, seeing right through the act. Richie tried to smile.“Ehh… It’s cool. It’s whatever.” Richie brushed it off, but then continued after a deep breath, “I guess its just a huge bummer. Like I know I’m not ancient or anything, I’m not even thirty yet, but its really discouraging. I actually meet someone I could see myself connecting with, which hasn’t happened since… YOU, and he’s already taken? It just feels like I’m starting off on way the wrong foot.”***Richie tries to get back in the dating scene, but Eddie keeps showing up and distracting him. Why does he always want what he can't have?





	Sparks Fly

Dating was the fucking worst. Richie had been back on the dating scene for a month and it was already the fucking WORST, he had absolutely ZERO luck. To be fair, he was out of practice. Way-way-way out of practice. Embarrassingly out of practice. If practice was a baseball stadium, Richie was a goddamn over-the-wall home run.

Because he just ended an 8-year relationship. Honestly, though, don’t feel TOO bad for him. He wasn’t super heart-broken about it. He still loved Beverly, would always love Bev, but in the past few years he’d realized that they just… weren’t _in_ love anymore. Beverly was his best friend and being with her was great, but it wasn’t _it_, for either of them. It was easy, comfortable, but there was something missing. No spark anymore.

So they broke up! It was sad, but amicable. It was hard, but also good. Rejuvenating. At least, that’s what Richie thought before he realized how _fucking hard it is to date_. He was fine NOT dating for a while. He and Bev had been broken up about 7 months before he even really THOUGHT about dating again. Before that, he was generally just trying to adjust to being single again, figuring out what it meant to be alone and independent. But eventually, that inevitable loneliness sunk in and once he was able to be FRIENDS with Beverly again, she was the _first_ to encourage him to date.

And had he mentioned yet that it was the fucking worst? Genuinely, it is so hard to meet people you like. When was the last time you met someone new and thought _oh, what an interesting thing you just said_?

NEVER! It just so rarely happens! Richie was starting to think he’d used up his quota of meeting people he’d like. All he’d get was his sister Angie, Bev, Stan, and Adrian. That’s all. But he wasn’t quite _that_ cynical _yet_, so he decided to get on some dating apps. He started with Tinder, because it was easy and popular and casual. Sure, some people had serious relationships start on Tinder, but mostly… that didn’t happen. So, the pressure was low and that was exactly what Richie needed. No pressure.

But good GOD the people on there could be awful. The matches themselves were _weird_. Richie was never a fan of the initial wanting-to-be-funny-gifs being sent, or the _hi_’s or the _so what are you looking for on here_s. Most of the time Richie’s reaction to these people was the same: _just shut the fuck up please. _And so he’d just unmatch.

Needless to say, it was hard to find someone he could really jive with on Tinder. It took a month of swiping and ignoring messages and masturbating far too frequently for Richie to _finally_ find someone he thought was worth going on a date with. His name was Tony, he was three years younger than Richie, he was a chef at a restaurant downtown, and he was cute enough.

BUT. He had also been talking for _32 minutes about his mixtape_. Richie was going to lose his _fucking_ mind. He looked around the room, trying to find their waiter so he could flag him down and beg for another Old Fashioned. He scanned the room desperately, but he didn’t see their waiter. He did, however, see a cute guy sitting at the bar not too far away from their booth.

The first thing Richie thought when he looked at him was _eyes! Holy shit he had pretty eyes!_ And then he noticed where those eyes were looking, particularly that they were staring judgingly at Tony. He was turned around all the way on his barstool and _staring_ at Richie’s date. Not in any way that should have made Richie jealous, though. It was more of a _holy fuck this guy has been talking about a mixtape and playing samples of said mixtape in a relatively quiet bar for 32 minutes_ kind of look. Richie understood that look, because it was the same one his soul was making. His face couldn’t make it, unfortunately, since he had to maintain an interested façade, but his soul… oh boy. His soul was making that face _hard_.

The guy blew out a breath dramatically, shaking his head, and then went to shift back in his seat, but he stopped when he noticed Richie staring at him. He cocked his head to the side a little and smiled and Richie felt his mouth open slightly. He was s_o fucking cute,_ Richie wanted to cry. BUT, Richie knew he couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t even smile back, because he may have been out of the dating game for a while, yes, but even he knew that it was bad taste to gawk at another man on a first date. Even if it was going fucking awfully.

So, Richie reluctantly didn’t let himself check out the cute guy, didn’t let himself smile back and widen his eyes in companionable disbelief at his date’s antics, didn’t even offer a friendly nod of acknowledgment. NOTHING. He just turned his head back to his date, who had previously been looking for his band’s Facebook page on Richie’s phone (yes, he had to DOWNLOAD the app on there first, because Richie sure as hell didn’t have a Facebook anymore). However, when Richie looked over, his date was officially no longer on his phone. He was glaring at Richie.

“Um, are you kidding me?” he asked, rudely. Richie sat back in his seat and felt his eyebrows scrunch.

“What?” he asked. Tony just scoffed and crossed his arms.

“You’re really gonna check out another guy _right_ in front of me? That’s so fucked up.” He snapped. Richie laughed, unbelieving.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Richie almost wanted it to be a joke, wanted the guy to drop the act suddenly and shake his head, saying he was kidding, that guy was super cute, he got it. But _no_. Instead, Tony waved his hands in the air for a moment and then pointed directly to the guy at the bar.

“You just stared at that fucking twink for like 45 seconds! Right in front of me!” Tony argued.

“Okay, well, first, I really don’t think you should be throwing around the word _twink_ like it’s an insult, especially when you look like that in a cardigan and skinny jeans.” Richie pointed out and Tony scoffed.

“_I’m a hunk_.”

“You fucking wish. Second, I looked at that guy for like two seconds. I made eye contact with a stranger. Am I not allowed to do that?” Richie asked rhetorically, all though Tony seemed to take a second to think about it.

“I really just think I deserve a little more respect from you.” Tony quipped. Richie spluttered, genuinely so fucking confused.

“What? I’ve literally known you for thirty more minutes than I’ve known that guy. The two of you are practically equals in my book. You’re both strangers to me! Why should I owe you eye contact and not him?” Richie argued. If Tony was going to be dumbass, Richie could absolutely match him. No one could out-dumbass Richie Tozier.

“Richie!” Tony said, shocked, “We’ve been dating for three weeks!” Richie stared at him for a very long moment.

“Are you kidding me?” Richie asked laughingly, and boy that seemed to be pissing Tony off so much, the fact that Richie obviously could _not_ take him seriously, “We’ve had _two_ conversations that lasted the span of _two_ _weeks_. I would HARDLY call that dating.” Tony stared at him for a moment, mouth agape, before starting to gather his things.

“God! You are such a fuckboy! You know,” he ranted, “I deserve more than this. I _deserve_ someone who actually wants to be here with ME and not just the hottest guy in the room.”

He started to stand and Richie looked around him in shock, partially waiting for the Candid Camera crew to come out, or maybe the crew of Punk’d, because this just could not be real. He _didn’t_ see Ashton Kutcher, though. What he _did_ see was the Cute Guy at the bar staring at Richie and Tony with a shocked grin.

“Tony-” Richie started, although he really didn’t know what he was going to say. He definitely didn’t want the guy to STAY, not after… whatever the fuck that was, but he still felt kind of bad… kind of.

“_No_,” Tony said, cutting him off, “I’m going to go. But one day, Richie… you’re really going to have to learn what _commitment_ means.” Then he turned around dramatically and walked out without turning back. It was QUITE the goosebumps walkaway, but its effect was dampened by the fact that RICHIE HAD KNOWN HIM FOR 35 MINUTES.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Richie whispered to himself, hands completely covering his face as he hung heavy in the lowness of that moment. When he emerged from behind his hands, the Cute Guy at the bar wasn’t looking at him anymore, his back to him once again, but Richie could see his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Fucking asshole.

Richie got up out of his seat and slid into the barstool next to him. He downed the rest of his drink and then turned to Cute Guy with as open of a smile as he could muster.

“Hi there. I’m Richie and I just learned that I need to learn what commitment means, despite the fact that I just got out of an eight-year relationship. So, cheers to me.” The guy was smiling wide until that last part, then he gasped slightly and winced.

“Jesus, that’s… umm. Well, if it makes you feel any better, I really don’t think you’re missing out on anything. It didn’t seem like that mixtape was going to make it very far.” Eddie quipped. Richie laughed loudly and resisted the urge to bang his head against the sticky bar.

“Fuck, RIGHT? I’m so glad you heard that too. I thought I was in a very particular level of hell, all alone.”

“Oh no, _everyone_ in proximity was suffering with you,” he assured him, “I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry for ruining your date.” Richie choked on his spit and shook his head, laughing a little too loud.

“Eddie, _please_. That date was doomed from the beginning, evidently. If anything, you saved me back there. If I hadn’t _eye-fucked_ you, I might still be listening to country-rap and pretending it wasn’t awful.” Richie went to take a swig of his beer, and then remembered it was empty. Fuck, he was going to need like 8 more.

“Well, in that case, the next round is on you?” Eddie teased, raising a hand to call the bartender over. Richie laughed but shrugged and agreed.

“To the beginning of what seems like it will be a very disappointing dating experience.” Richie said, raising his bottle. Eddie’s eyes jaw dropped before he groaned.

“Fuck, are you telling me _that_ was your first date after the 8-year thing?” he asked. Richie nodded and took a big drink, “_Shit_, how recently did you break up?”

“About eight months ago.” Richie said. Eddie winced.

“Man, I should have ordered shots for us instead.”

“That would’ve been more appropriate, but nobody’s perfect, so.” Richie teased, making Eddie laugh, rolling his eyes, “Though you might be as close as it gets.” Richie muttered, only partly wanting Eddie to hear it. He did, though, lips quirking into a smile.

“Are you flirting with me?” he asked, slightly surprised. Richie grinned and nodded.

“What can I say? Tony was right about me.”

“A real fuckboy, you are.” Eddie agreed laughingly. They were silent for a moment when the laughter trailed off, the silence charged and only slightly awkward, “So, Richie, what do you do?” Eddie asked. He shifted in his barstool then, so he was facing Richie completely. Richie cleared his throat, acting casual and like he wasn’t suddenly very nervous.

“Oh, I’m a comedian.” Richie said. Eddie raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Really? A good one?” he asked. Richie laughed loud and shook his head.

“Fuck, I hope so? Don’t ask me to prove it though, I _will_ clam up. I’m actually a comedy _writer_ in the day, that pays the substantial bills, but I have some success with stand-up.” He explained and Eddie hummed in understanding, “How about you Eddie? What do you do?” Eddie grimaced and shook his head.

“Well, now I’m not telling you. It’s boring as hell and if you’re a comedian, you’ll just make fun of me.” Eddie said, picking at the label on his bottle.

“What? No, I won’t!” Richie said, “Especially if it’s something you enjoy, I wouldn’t make fun of that. I’d have to have some real asshole writers making me do something like that.” Eddie smiled a little and then turned back to Richie.

“I have an accounting firm,” he said, then stayed quiet, waiting for the shoe to drop and Richie to say something rude. He didn’t, just waited for Eddie to continue, “No jokes?”

“Hey, I said I wouldn’t make fun of you! And I mean… it is a stereotypically boring job, BUT, if you like it… that’s awesome. I couldn’t do it, though. Fuck math.”

“You’re bad at math?”

“Well, no. But that doesn’t mean I like doing it in my free time.” Richie explained. Eddie nodded as he sipped his beer. Richie was definitely not staring as he licked his lips.

“That’s fair. I don’t really like the math part either, I more run the business end. My partner, Don, does most of the actual accounting. Although I help when I can,” he said and Richie listened, yeah, he sort of listened as he continued, but he leaned back in his chair, struck dumb. Because _fuck_. Richie hadn’t noticed before, but Eddie did have a ring on his right hand and he had a _partner_. Fuck.

What the hell was he doing with Richie? Just making friendly conversation? At a bar? Alone? Fucking unlikely, right? RIGHT? Someone please tell him right.

“That’s awesome, Eds.” Richie said, when he stopped speaking, and Richie decided to push the envelope a little, just to see what happened, “You know what we should invent?” Eddie looked at him weird.

“What?”

“A sexy accountant costume.” He said and Eddie laughed loudly.

“Wow, okay I guess I sort of see the comedian thing. If I squint and drink more of this beer.” Eddie teased, making Richie grin.

“I’m serious! Its almost Halloween-”

“So we’re probably a little late to start now.”

“And you always see sexy nurses and sexy firefighters and sexy fucking cops, but never accountant! It’s a crime, Eddie Spaghetti!” Eddie grimaced at the nickname but didn’t comment, just shaking his head.

“What would it even look like? A fucking button up and khakis?”

“I don’t know. Is that what you usually wear to work?” Richie asked and Eddie raised an eyebrow at him, clueing in, “Because I mean, you in any outfit is a sexy accountant outfit, am I right?”

“Fuck off.”

“Just take a picture of you know, put it on a costume website, it’ll sell out easy peasy.”

“You’re laying it on fucking thick.” Eddie laughed, but he slid slightly closer to Richie, so their thighs were slotted together like a puzzle. Fuck, that was definitely a move. Eddie was making moves and Richie was going to _fucking die_. Was he just bored? Enjoying the interest from a stranger at the bar and nothing more? Was Richie okay with that?

“I’ll do what I can to make you smile.” Richie said, a little too honest. Eddie’s grin softened and his hand loosened its grip on his beer bottle. He moved it like he was planning on touching Richie, a hand on his cheek or shoulder or maybe his chest, but before the contact could be initiated, his phone chirped on the bar. Eddie’s attention was firmly diverted, reading the text and frowning slightly.

“Oh, that’s Don. We’re supposed to meet some friends for a late dinner…” Eddie said, looking at Richie apologetically. Richie’s stomach sunk, but he moved back, untangling his legs and swerving his barstool to face forward again.

“No worries,” Richie said, “Thanks for the drink.” Richie was sure he was imagining it, but Eddie looked slightly disappointed, even as he smiled and stood up.

“Well, you bought it. I should be thanking you.” Eddie laughed, fidgeting with the strap of his bag awkwardly. Richie shrugged and laughed too.

“Right, well you’re welcome for the drink then.” He allowed, “Bye Ed.”

“Bye Richie. See you around, hopefully.”

“I hope not sporadically.” Richie said, which was something he usually saved for Adrian, but it made Eddie laugh anyway as he walked towards the door. Of _course_ he got Clueless references. He was fucking _perfect_.

***

“Oh, babe, you gotta gimme some of that booty!”

“Richie oh my _god_, please stop.”

“You _know_ I’m gonna eat that booty!”

Beverly threw the bag of Pirate’s Booty at Richie’s head after checking to make sure no employees were around them. Richie narrowly avoided the bag, leaning over the cart in front of him and laughing. He hadn’t gone grocery shopping with Bev since the break-up, but it was still as fun as it always had been. No one made him laugh like Beverly.

“You’ve been making that joke since we were 17, Richie.” Beverly said, rolling her eyes but grinning, “And every _single time_ I tell you that you eat enough booty in your regular life, you don’t need any more.”

“Never enough, Bev! Never enough.” Richie emphasized as he went to pick up the bag. Beverly just laughed and threw some Doritos into her section of the cart. That was weird, having to separate the cart. The food wasn’t going to the same place anymore.

“So,” Beverly started, drawing out the vowel dramatically and Richie knew exactly what she was going to ask, “How was your date the other night?”

Yeah, okay, he probably shouldn’t have told his ex that he was going on a Tinder date, but… he needed to. He told Bev and Stan practically the second he made the arrangement. He needed advice, someone to share his location with, someone to vent to before and after. When he went radio silent after, though, Bev probably sensed something bad happened.

“It was basically a disaster.” Richie admitted, shrugging nonchalantly.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Oh it is.”

“You’ve always been a dramatic bitch.” Beverly teased, tossing a box of Lucky Charms at Richie, which he alley-ooped into the cart.

“That is true, but… well, it started with him shoving his mixtape down my ear-throat and then, when I realized my IQ was surely being eroded, I looked around the room, made eye contact with a stranger for five seconds, and he accused me of _cheating on him_.” 

“No fucking way.” Beverly deadpanned, obviously trying not to laugh. Richie nodded and pushed the cart ahead as he kept talking, swerving slightly down the aisle.

“Then he stormed out, of course, but not before informing me that I’m a ‘fuckboy’ who ‘needs to learn the definition of commitment’,” Bev choked on a gasp, “Yeah. I mean to be fair, that is accurate. I have never committed, ever in my life.”

“I’ve always thought that. Throughout our eight-year relationship.”

“Exactly,” Richie said. “So he left, and I, in complete shock, obviously went and talked to the cute guy at the bar who I wasn’t checking out, but should have been, and he was fucking amazing. Really really adorable.”

“Hey!” Beverly crowed, surprised and excited, “That’s fun! Did you get his number?” Richie glared as much as he could.

“Bevvy, you’re forgetting the topic sentence of this story: it was basically a disaster.”

“Oh, drama-Richie is back again.”

“With a vengeance. Anyway, we chatted for a bit,” Richie said easing into his Love Island Voice, “Had a strong banter. He was totally my type on paper, total bev.”

“I love your Love Island voice.”

“We were cracking on, grafting hard, really had a genuine connection, chatting up a storm. But then, he said he had a _partner_… and he had a _ring on his finger_. I didn’t notice at first, but he’s fecking married. I felt like a com_plete_ dickhead.” Richie liked that the accent helped soften the actual feeling of hurt.

“Oh, baby.” Bev cooed, seeing right through the act. Richie shrugged and tried to smile.

“Ehh… It’s cool. It’s whatever.” Richie brushed it off, but then continued after a deep breath, “I guess its just a huge bummer. Like I know I’m not ancient or anything, I’m not even thirty yet, but its really discouraging. My first date back in the game blows up in literal flames and then I actually meet someone I could connect with, which hasn’t happened since… YOU, and he’s already taken? It just feels like I’m starting off on way the wrong foot.”

“Richie…” Bev started, but Richie put up a hand to silence her.

“Don’t Bev, it’s okay. I hate to sound like an ass, but you’re kind of the last person I want to comfort me about my love life. Like, you’re my best friend, but you also are my ex… who already found someone kind of perfect after me.” Beverly stopped walking and turned around to look directly at him.

“Is this you being upset about Ben?” she asked genuinely, eyes worried. Richie took a moment to evaluate and then shook his head adamantly.

“No, _no_. Honest, Ben is great, perfect for you. You guys are great together.” Richie insisted, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tight. Bev squeezed back for a moment and then hugged him. The moment was soft and sincere, a lot said without words, before Bev pulled back, grinned, and grabbed his arm.

“Okay maybe this is weird, but…” she trailed off, making big doe eyes at Richie.

“What? Nothing good can be coming from that look.”

“There’s this guuuyyy…” Richie groaned but Beverly just hit his arm gently, excited, “No! Don’t do that! He went to school with my cousin and he’s super sweet! He’s got this cute southern accent and he’s really nice! He’d be a good way to ease into dating and I think you’d get along!”

“Uggghhhh, a blind date set up by my ex? That feels embarrassing.”

“Is it really THAT much worse than a Tinder date?” Bev asked, cocking one hip. Richie sighed and leaned against the handle of the cart.

“……. Fine. But I’m going to hate every second of it.” He relented and Bev did a little cheer.

“Shut up. It’s gonna be great. I promise.”

Yeah. Sure. Okay.

***

Why the FUCK did Richie say he would go ice skating? This was such a mistake, holy shit, holy SHIT.

“Oh honey, are you okay?” Eric asked AGAIN, as Richie stumbled. Luckily for him, Eric was small but he was strong as hell, because Richie was clinging to his arms for dear fucking life. Very nice arms, very sturdy arms, it was kind of intimidating actually.

“I’m okay, really,” Richie managed. Also very lucky, he was extremely practiced in laughing at himself, and Eric had a very sweet smile, so his ego wasn’t nearly as bruised as his ass was, “I gotta say, this is pretty messed up of you.”

“What?” Eric asked, skating backwards easily, pulling Richie along gently as he tried to get his own bearings. But his bearings seemingly had just… left the fucking country.

“You’re literally an ex-figure skater, it’s kind of cheating to take me to a skating rink for our first date.” Richie pointed out and Eric laughed, soft and genuine.

“That’s true. Maybe next time you can take me to an improv class or something.” Eric laughed and Richie looked up from his feet in surprise.

“Next time?” he asked with a grin, “This embarrassing display hasn’t turned you off completely?” Richie was making an utter fucking fool of himself. He was a six-foot-two clutz resting on a five-foot-six angel.

“Not yet. It’s surprisingly endearing. I like a guy who isn’t afraid to look silly.” He said, looking up at Richie with that smile that turned Richie’s stomach upside down. He was so fucking pretty, exactly Richie’s type.

(So tell him why when Eric smiled, all Richie saw in his head was Eddie rolling his eyes, scrunching up his face in laughter?)

“You and that Southern Kindness.” Richie said, putting on his own fake southern accent, which earned a raised eyebrow from Eric, the first sign of sass he’d seen so far.

“What was that supposed to be? Are you making fun of me?” Eric asked. Richie shrugged and Eric laughed once, “I don’t think you’re in a position to be doing that, Richie.” He teased, before skating back a little faster and then slowly letting go of Richie’s arms.

“Oh my God oh my God no! Please don’t.” Richie begged, starting to lose his balance and clinging tighter to his forearms.

“_Exactly_, hon. But… it _was_ pretty good, I’ll give you that.” Eric steadied him again and Richie laughed, more out of relief than anything else.

“Jesus, Eric, you’re an asshole, aren’t you?” Richie asked and Eric shrugged as he giggled. Face of an angel, and he knew it.

“You wanna take a break?” Eric asked, taking pity.

“Fuck, yes, please.” Richie begged. Eric nodded and started pulling them towards the edge of the rink, so Richie could lean for support and Eric could rest his arms for a second. When they settled, Eric stood closer than Richie expected, tugging at the edges of Richie’s jacket and tilting his head up. It was super intimate and Richie was surprised by the forwardness.

“Are making a move on me?” Richie asked. He didn’t know how he felt about it. Eric was crazy cute, funny as hell, and they did get along, but…

“Maybe. It does seem like I’m taking the reins tonight.” Eric teased. Richie smiled instinctively. He liked anyone with this much fire, and so he leaned down to meet Eric as he moved forward. Their lips met and…

Nothing.

_Nothing._

“Oh fuck.” Richie whispered and Eric let out a laugh as well.

“Yeah, that was…”

“It was great.” Richie said, genuinely. Eric smiled and nodded, agreeing.

“It _was_, you’re a lovely kisser.”

“So are you! So lovely.”

“Just so nice,” He assured him, that accent nothing but sincere, “but…”

“… No spark.” Richie finished and Eric agreed, pulling back and covering his face in his hands, groaning loudly.

“_No spark!_” Eric repeated, “Which sucks. You’re so funny and _handsome_… and dating is the _worst_.”

“Oh its so _awful_. So, so awful.” Richie laughed and Eric smiled at him again, endeared. He squeezed his hand once and sighed.

“Well, I still like you.”

“We should _definitely_ be friends.” Richie said adamantly. He wasn’t too disappointed, if anything Beverly was completely right. Eric was a really good way to ease back into dating, even if it was a let-down at the end, a little bit. “Hey, how about you skate for me?”

“Huh?” Eric asked.

“Skate! I wanna see how good you are when I’m not holding you back.” Richie encouraged and Eric let his head back and laughed.

“I’m not sure you could handle me, sweetheart,” Eric teased, “You might be too intimidated. I don’t wanna hurt your self-esteem anymore.”

“Oh my self-esteem completely vanished with the seventh fucking tumble that I took. That hasn’t been something to for a LONG time.” Richie insisted. Eric looked around and seemed to consider it. The ice wasn’t too busy, plenty of space, and Eric really _did_ look like the kind of guy who couldn’t say no to a challenge. Richie knew those kinds of guys… he loved those kinds of guys.

Fuck chemistry, honestly, _so not fair_.

“I mean, if you’re too scared, you don’t have to… I do have high standards. I’m a tough crowd to please.” Richie allowed and Eric immediately glared.

“Fuck off, Richie.” Eric said, starting to skate backwards, and Richie could already tell how good he was. Richie knew fuck-all about skating, but even he could see how effortlessly Eric moved, the strength coiled in his limbs, “I hate that that’s going to work on me.”

“I know how cute boys work.” Richie said, leaning against the wall behind him. Eric rolled his eyes and went to turn around but then- “Wait, Eric, look out!”

Unfortunately, Eric didn’t hear him in time, bumping into a solid figure behind him right as he turned. He made a little oof sound and looked like he was going to fall, losing his balance. Luckily for him, the guy had quick reflexes, wrapping an arm around Eric’s waist and righting him before disaster could strike, tugging him firmly against his chest.

Richie felt like the scene in front of him had been professionally produced. The way the lights hit them, the way Eric’s cheeks immediately blushed, and the other man’s eyes went wide, the perfect size difference… it was Academy Award worthy. It was spark. It was chemistry.

“Oh my gosh, I am _so sorry_.” Eric spluttered, accent coming out extra strong. He must’ve been nervous. Cute.

“No, _crisse, _that was completely my fault. I saw you coming, I just… got distracted. Didn’t move fast enough.” The man insisted, blushing slightly himself, and… huh. Those blue eyes looked kind of familiar.

“Got distracted, huh?” Eric asked, half-confused, half-flirting. The guy laughed and shrugged, then he seemed to realize that his arms were still around Eric, so he moved back and-

“OH my God.” Richie whispered, under his breath, then, louder, “Are you Jack Zimmerman?” Both of them looked over quickly, both looking awkward for completely different reasons. Eric skated over to Richie and JACK ZIMMERMAN skated along with him.

“What?” Eric asked, looking back at the man following him.

“Are you Jack Zimmerman? The captain of the Falconers?” Richie repeated, a little awe-struck. Damn, he was even hotter in person, crystal blue eyes and cheekbones that could fucking cut glass. And Richie had good cheekbones, but around Jack Zimmerman… he was practically the fucking Pillsbury Doughboy.

“Oh co-captain… but uh, yeah. I am.” He said, rubbing his neck awkwardly, which conveniently showed off his arms, something both Richie _and_ Eric noticed. (Also, Jesus, it was almost snowing in New York right now and this guy was in a mid-sleeve Henley? Where did he get off?)

“The Falconers?” Eric asked, looking up at Richie and Jack with wide eyes.

“Hockey,” Richie clarified, “Professional fucking hockey.” Eric turned and looked at Jack with an impressed grin.

“No way! I played hockey, in college!” Eric exclaimed. Jack looked shocked, not-so-subtly eyeing Eric up and down, sizing up his frame.

“Really?” he asked and Eric glared, tilting his head.

“_Yes_. I was a winger. Fast as hell too, thank you very much.” Eric said, cocking his hip. Richie laughed at the confidence (thinking of Eddie).

“Well, we’ll have to race sometime.” Jack said, grin easy. Eric’s eyebrows raised but he nodded.

“Awww, bless your heart. Yeah, I’d like that,” Eric responded, “I always love winning.” Jack laughed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. Wow, was this how Tony felt? Richie didn’t really feel angry though, he was happy for Eric.

“I’m Eric, by the way,” he said, putting out his hand for Jack to shake, “Or you can call me Bitty. That’s what my teammates call me.” Eric added and Richie looked at him with wide eyes.

_Bitty_? He mouthed and Eric blushed and glared, but Jack didn’t seem to notice.

“Gotta love the hockey nicknames.” Jack allowed, nodding. Richie looked back and forth between the two of them, feeling like a huge third wheel and honestly… he might as well lean into it.

“I’m Richie, by the way!” he said, pulling attention. Eric (_Bitty_) took a surprised breath and turned to Richie with an apologetic grin.

“Oh right! This is Richie, my…” Eric looked at him contemplatively, mouth open, searching for the words to say, and Richie decided to help him out.

“Co-worker. We’re friends from work.” Richie lied and Jack’s shoulders definitely relaxed slightly. And Bitty _definitely_ noticed. “So, I’m glad you came along now, Jack.”

“Yeah?” Jack asked, and wow, that was probably the first time he’d actually looked at Richie, the first time he pried his eyes away from the Southern Beauty.

“Yes. For sure, because I am the worst skater this side of _Mars_, so would you mind skating with Bitty for a bit? While I rest my feet?” Richie asked and Eric’s eyes widened.

“Richie…” he started, whispering.

“I don’t mind at all.” Jack said at the same time, so Richie waved off Eric’s concern.

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” Richie leaned in to hug Eric and kissed him once on the cheek, lingering for a second to whisper, “Now _that’s_ a spark.”

Bitty was smiling shyly when Richie pulled back.

“Okay, I’ll see y’all later.” Richie said and Eric glared as they skated away.

“Cut it with that fucking accent, Rich!” Richie laughed as he hobbled towards the door of the rink, sighing in complete and utter fucking relief as he collapsed onto the bench. He moaned loudly as he pulled the skates off his feet.

“You alright there?” someone asked, and Richie looked up in surprise to see-

“Eddie!” Richie breathed, “Umm… yeah. That was actually a moan of pure pleasure.” He managed, trying not to seem completely caught off guard. Eddie laughed and pulled his beanie off, which mussed up his hair slightly. It was fucking adorable.

“Not a big skater?” he asked and Richie blew out a big breath.

“Um, fuck _no_ I am not. Apparently, I have the balance of a baby fucking deer.” Richie said. Eddie nodded and rubbed his chin.

“_Wow_. I wouldn’t have expected that, given you’re the size of a goddam giraffe.” Eddie teased. Richie barked out a laugh and Eddie smiled, shaking his head, “Nah I’m just kidding. Can I sit with you?”

“Yeah, of course… you aren’t skating?” Richie asked. He didn’t want Eddie to leave, of course, but he also didn’t want to keep him from… anyone.

“Oh, I was, but... eh, third wheeling isn’t my thing.” He pointed to a couple on the far end of the rink, holding hands and looking intimate as all hell.

“Fuck, you came with them?” Richie laughed and Eddie groaned.

“Yeah, they’re my best friends. I’m happy they’re together! I am, but… Bill always insists I still come along, even on the really romantic endeavors. I appreciate the effort to make sure I feel included, but like… come on.” He said, gesturing again to the two men who really were in their own fucking world.

“That’s hard to deal with.” Richie allowed and Eddie smiled as he nodded.

“_Yes_. Although…” he trailed off, cringing slightly, “I don’t have to tell _you_ about that.” Eddie said and for a second Richie didn’t understand. But then, Eddie gestured to the ice where Bitty and Jack were skating circles around each other.

“Oh… you noticed that?” Richie asked awkwardly. Eddie blushed and looked down at his feet, almost more embarrassed than Richie.

“I kind of saw you… the second you walked in,” Eddie admitted and _god_ he did things to Richie, “You talk really loud, you know?”

“… _Wow_… Eddie Spaghetti, you are so obsessed with me.” Richie teased, ignoring the comment at the end and leaning in to the whole making-Eddie-blush thing.

“Shut up, asshole,” Eddie said, looking out at the ice, avoiding Richie’s eyes, “I saw you with him and I wanted to say hi but… you looked intimate.” Eddie shrugged.

“Well, not so much anymore.” Richie pointed out.

“Yeah, you don’t seem so upset about that.” Eddie tried with a small smile, nudging Richie’s leg slightly with his, and then _leaving it there_. That was something. Richie knew that move.

“Eh, I’m not really,” he tried to seem casual, even as his mind was racing at the proximity. He was kind of surprised at how easy they fell into the same easy, flirty banter they’d had the other night, as if no time had passed at all, “Don’t get me wrong, Eric is great. Really great. He’s cute, funny, snarky-”

“Doesn’t yell at you when you look at passing strangers?” Eddie cut in. Richie laughed and shook his head.

“Yeah, that’s another plus. Already beating out some of my past dates,” Richie admitted, “But even with all that, it’s just… there was no…” Richie took a moment, distracted when he noticed how close Eddie was sitting, how avidly he was watching him, hanging on Richie’s words. His eyes were so close, his lips _right there_, and Richie was stuck staring.

“No what?” Eddie prompted, voice sunk into a whisper since they’d moved closer, seemingly without either of them noticing.

“Oh, um… It was just, when we kissed, there was no… chemistry. No spark.” Richie said, leaning in as casually as he could manage. And _damn_ talk about sparks, Richie was kind of sure a fucking lightning storm was about to erupt, with how many tingles ran across his skin.

“No spark huh?” Eddie asked, resting his elbows on his knees. Oh shit, was he looking at Richie’s lips? He was, he was, oh damn, he was leaning in, oh _shit_ oh-

“Eddie?” a voice said, pulling the two of them out of their trance. Eddie looked up with wide eyes at the intruder and somehow Richie managed to drag his eyes away from Eddie to see who it was.

“Mike!” Eddie squeaked, blushing under _Mike’s_ grin now.

(Richie got the _strangest_ feeling of déjà vu, looking up at Mike, a stranger, and feeling anger about him ruining an Eddie-moment. It was almost like the same thing had happened before in another life, or in a different reality or something. An alternate universe maybe? Hm.)

“Eddie!” Mike echoed back, laughing, “Who is this?” he asked as he turned his attention to Richie.

“Oh! This is Richie!” Eddie said and it was obvious how hard he was trying to be casual, “We met at the bar the other night, remember? I mentioned that? Casually?” Mike’s face went through quite the journey.

“Riiiichiiiie!” Mike replied, drawing out his name slowly. Richie had no fucking idea what meant. Mike and Eddie had a conversation with their eyes for 30 seconds and then Mike turned to Richie with a friendly look, “Well, _Richie_… did you see Jack fucking Zimmerman was on the ice? _Insane_.”

“Oh, yeah,” Richie replied, grateful for the change in conversation, “He kind of stole my date.” He gestured to where Jack and Eric were leaning against the wall, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

“What the hell, really?” Mike asked and Richie nodded reluctantly. If he was going to have the worst fucking dating luck in the world, at least he got to amuse other people with it, “Well, I guess if there’s anyone who I’d be okay with stealing my date…”

“That’s a good point. It’s hard to be mad since Jack Zimmerman is an ACTUAL Greek god,” Richie allowed, smiling when Eddie scoffed, “I mean, he’s not _my_ type but. If you’re in to that sort of thing.” Richie winked at Eddie, who blushed and glared back at him. Perfect.

Mike cleared his throat, pulling the two of them out of their moment again, raising his eyebrows slightly. Eddie spluttered for something to say to Mike’s unspoken question, but he was cut off by another interruption.

“Eddie! Mike! Don’s just messaged us,” another guy, who Richie was assuming was Bill, ran up and added with a slightly suspicious look towards Richie. And didn’t that just send him careening OUT of the moment, reminding Richie full force that Eddie. Had. A _husband_. “We should probably get to the theater.”

“Right,” Eddie said, turning back to Richie, “We have movie plans…” he trailed off, awkward. Richie stood up, understanding the brush off when he saw it.

“Oh! Yeah, you should get going then-”

“You could come too, if you wanted?” Eddie offered and oh fuck, how sweet was he, he needed to stop. But honestly, the thought of a night with Eddie and his husband/fiancé? He’d rather ice skate for another five hours.

“That’s… really nice, Eds, but I actually am supposed to meet up with a friend soon and my whole body is sore from that skating attempt so… rain check?” Richie asked and Eddie nodded, smiling softly.

“I hope so.” He said, grabbing one of Richie’s hands in his gloved one.

“I like your gloves.” Richie said, “They’re all fuzzy and cute and just like you.” Eddie rolled his eyes and pulled his hand back firmly.

“Fuck off.” Richie grinned at the insult, shoving his now empty hands in his pockets.

“Well, I should get going,” Richie said, walking off, “Hope to see you soon.”

“Wait!” Eddie called out and Richie turned around awkwardly.

“Yeah?”

“Umm…” Eddie pointed to Richie’s feet with a small smile, “You’re only wearing socks.” Richie stopped and looked down at his feet, which, now that Eddie pointed it out were numb as fucking hell.

“OH. Shit. Yeah… I’ll need my boots.” He went back and slipped his shoes on as quick as he could before walking off again, Eddie’s goodbyes following him.

***

Richie collapsed on his couch with a dramatic groan. His body hurt so bad. His head was racing a fucking mile a minute. And he was so hungry, but his kitchen was like… at least 8 steps away and that was too many. Even Doordash, he’d have to pull out his phone and _then_ _eventually_ walk to the door.

Exhausting.

He heard his phone ding and pulled it out, expecting Bev asking him about the date or Stan sending him a stupid meme, but instead it was Eric. Richie smiled as he opened the message.

_I cannot believe you let me do that_

**Do what?**

_DITCH YOU FOR JACK ZIMMERMAN_

**Oh that. I forgot. I had like three dates after you, so its easy to mix em up. You’re Patrick, right?**

_Shut up_

**Really though, how’d it go?**

_…. So amazing. _

**To pay me back, you can give me full and free access to whatever sex tapes you guys make in the future**

_SEX TAPE**S**?!_

**You just fucking know Jack Zimmerman is into kinky shit**

_Well… I’ll let you know ;)_

**Fucking get it, Bits.**

_<3_

***

Richie was going to get laid. He had ONE goal, going out with Stan and Adrian and it was to GET. LAID. Well, he also wanted to catch up and have some fun with his friends, but AFTER THAT. _SEX_. It had been nine months at this point, since he’d broken up with Bev. NINE MONTHS since he’d last had sex and he wasn’t like… the horniest person in the world but he had a pretty sizeable libido. For fuck’s sake, he was 28, okay? He wanted to fuck.

It wasn’t looking good though, to be honest. He really was out of the swing of things. It might have been because he hit the pre-game a little too hard, but he just hated clubs! It was impossible to get drunk in one, with how busy there were and how fucking expensive the shots were. It was so much easier to hit the bars harder, get fucked up at a cheap-ass dive bar and then show up a little sloppy to dance. It was softer on Richie’s wallet, although a little harder on his game.

He got really loud when he was drunk. Well, he was always kind of loud, but it was worse when the blood was rushing to his head and his senses were a little impaired. His body awareness cut down to a fraction of what it usually was and he was loud and moved a little to freely, made rude jokes too often.

It was obnoxious. Not hot.

But while drinking made him LESS sexy, it always made Adrian MORE sexy. They’d lost Stan a couple bars back; he wasn’t much of a partier so he grabbed a cab and headed back home at a respectable hour. So now it was just Richie and Adrian. Well, it was just Richie, really. Adrian was dancing with an extremely handsome man on the dance floor, and since both he and Richie had gone out the same aim, Richie wouldn’t be surprised if this was the last he saw of his friend for the night. So now, Richie was sitting alone at a table, taking a break from dancing to catch his breath and evaluate his odds.

“Did you come here alone?” a girl asked, sliding into the seat opposite Richie. She was completely unexpected and absolutely stunning, long brown hair and bright green eyes.

“I did, yeah,” Richie lied, smiling widely and shifting in his chair, closer to her, “Just looking for some fun.” The girl grinned and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I think you just found it.” She quipped, making Richie laugh.

“Did I?” he asked, shocked at the forwardness. It was hot as fuck, but again, _unexpected_. Richie didn’t think he was unattractive or anything but… he didn’t usually get approached like this. Especially alone, he’d thought he was fucked.

“Oh yeah. I’m Maura.” She said, offering her hand to Richie. He took it slowly.

“Richie.” He responded and the spark in her eye was intoxicating.

Well, that was easier than he thought it would be.

They made their way to Maura’s place, barely keeping their hands off each other the whole time. Richie would’ve offered his own apartment, but Stan was probably asleep and Maura said her roommate was out of town, on a retreat in Spain, so there was no one back at her’s. It wasn’t too far of a cab ride, but the driver probably fucking hated them, so Richie passed him a sizeable amount for the trouble.

It wasn’t usually Richie’s style, dry humping in the back of a taxi, but Maura was just like that. She was great, but… how could he explain it without sounding like a dickhead? She was pretty much everything Richie liked but in _extremes_. Richie liked confidence, but Maura was so self-involved it kind of made Richie cringe. He loved people who were shorter than him, but Maura was so petite, her body so goddamn perfect that it made Richie self-conscious. He liked people who were fiery, passionate, but she was so intense, _so_ fucking passionate that Richie, well the part of Richie that wasn’t desperately trying to bone, wanted to be like WHOA BITCH SLOW DOWN.

It worked out perfectly, though. She was everything Richie wanted times 500, which made for the perfect one-night stand. Easy to let go. Richie just wanted to make sure she knew that’s what this was, before they got anything started. When they got into her apartment, Richie was about to start that conversation, but he didn’t move fast enough because suddenly he was pushed against the door and Maura was on her knees, unbuttoning his pants and moving to pull down the zipper.

“Whoa! Whoa, babe, hold on.” He said, grabbing her by the arm and gesturing for her to stand up. She looked at him like he was crazy but listened, standing up and stepping back slightly.

“Is everything okay? I thought you wanted…”

“I do!” Richie assured her, because fuck yes, he totally did, “I really _really_ do. You are insanely gorgeous.” She smiled and moved close again, pressing their bodies together and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Then why did you stop?” she purred and Richie momentarily forgot, before shaking his head to clear it.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re… I’m really only looking for something casual. Nothing serious.” He reiterated and Maura tilted her head, listening and processing before smiling sweetly.

“Of course! We are _totally_ on the same page, Richie. I’m not looking to date you. Just a fuck, right?” she explained, dotting kisses to Richie’s jaw line as she spoke, standing on her tip-toes to reach.

“_Yes_. Just a fuck.” Richie managed and Maura nodded, pulling him back and assumedly towards the bedroom. When they got there, she pushed him down dramatically onto the bed. Richie laughed as he bounced gently, but stopped laughing pretty abruptly when Maura crawled between his legs and resumed her work from before.

And just immediately sucked his cock down.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Maura.” He groaned. She laughed and the vibration killed him. He moved his hands to slip into her hair, on instinct, and she made a noise of protest, pulling off.

“I can do it without coaching, thank you very much.” She teased. Richie raised his hands in surrender, feigning casual but he was a little bummed. He liked having his hands in hair when he was getting a blow job. It wasn’t like a control thing, it was just… intimate and vulnerable and…

Okay yeah, it was partly the control thing. But still.

It was the same thing, again. Richie usually liked someone who took control, but he also liked to cop it a little bit as well, and with Maura… well, at least now he knew he would blow his load too soon, no matter how fucking hot she was. He could wait until he had her bouncing on his cock.

“_Fuck_, Maura,” he groaned, “I wanna fuck you.” Maura made a noise of approval and popped off his cock, using both hands to jack him off now.

“Yeah?” she asked and Richie nodded, reaching for her to come up. She did, leaning down to kiss him again so Richie took the opportunity to flip their positions, gripping her waist and laying her on her back. She squealed at the manhandling and laughed as she settled. He smiled too, kissing her neck and making his way down. She still had her dress on, a tight green thing that left little to the imagination. He sat back on his heels and pushed the dress up and over her hips. He moved his hands to pull her underwear down and groaned loudly when he saw there was _none there_.

“Fucking slut.” He moaned affectionately, making Maura laugh loudly. Richie slung her legs over his shoulders and dived in because maybe it was being in a relationship with Bev for eight years and she just conditioned it into him, but he fucking loved eating people out. Men, women, anyone, he loved it. He had no reservations.

To quote Jake Hurwitz, Richie loved to take a girl and lick her from crack to clit. He fucking loved it. The sounds they made, the way they’d grip his curls (and yeah, Maura apparently didn’t think that the whole no-hands-in-the-hair-during-head thing went both ways), the feeling of thighs around his head. It was fucking perfect.

He was down there for a while before Maura, pushed him back gently, saying, “Okay, get a condom. You have a condom, right?” Richie nodded and sat up. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his wallet.

As he did that, though, he looked around the room and noticed-

“Umm…” he paused, titling his head and adjusting his glasses as he stared at the bookshelf.

“What?” Maura asked, leaning up on her elbows, not moving to adjust her dress at all which was just… so distracting.

“Is that a Make America Great Again hat?” Richie managed to ask. Maura adjusted to look where he was and laughed.

“Oh, yeah. My boyfriend is _obsessed_ with Trump.” She said, rolling her eyes. Richie stared at her, dumbstruck at how casually she delivered that fucking bombshell.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” He deadpanned. Maura looked back at him, surprised by the tone.

“_I’m _not,” she backtracked, “I don’t care much about him at all. I actually didn’t even vote in the last election, I mean. Both candidates were fucking awful, right?”

Okay. So… Richie really couldn’t unpack ALL of that right now, especially not with his dick as hard as it was. He looked down at the condom in his hands, then back at the hat, then back at Maura. He did that about three times before he heard Bev’s voice in his head calling him a fucking idiot. He sighed and pocketed the condom.

“I’m gonna go.” He said definitively and Maura sat up in shock.

“Excuse me?” she said and Richie just nodded and walked backwards.

“Yeah. I have to leave.” Richie said again, not looking back because GOD he wished he could say he had enough principle that finding out the girl he was going to sleep with not only had a BOYFRIEND but also a boyfriend who was a TRUMP SUPPORTER would be enough to soften his cock, but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t, she was still so hot and he really had to leave.

“Richie, if you walk out, I’m not chasing you. And I _won’t_ let you back in.” she said, angry but infused with the calm of someone who knows how hot she is.

“That’s good. That helps.” Richie whispered, moving quickly now. He sighed in relief when he got out the front door, leaning against it and taking a moment to curse the gods above him.

Richie let himself wallow for a moment and then pulled his phone out of his pocket. Then he took a moment to evaluate his options. He was a little too far from his own apartment to walk. He didn’t want to spend anymore on a cab because… well he gave the last like all the cash he had. Which was fucking stupid. That left Uber and Bev. Both of those options were kind of shitty, but Bev was free so he would suffer the embarrassment. He pulled out his phone to call her and you guessed it – dead.

His phone was fucking dead.

“Oh my God, I’m too drunk for this.” Richie said, stumbling off the door behind him. He didn’t know what to do, he needed a charger like… NOW.

It was stupid, so _so_ stupid , he knew that, and he could’ve been murdered, but he knocked on the door across the hall in complete desperation.

No answer.

Okay, let’s try another one. He’s in the shit now, he might as well. He moved to the right, towards the stairwell and tried again, knocking as loudly as he dared.

Still no answer.

He sighed and went to move onto the next one, but right as he was about to knock, he heard the first door he knocked on creak open.

“Is someone there?” he heard and Richie’s stomach hit his fucking toes.

“No fucking way.” He whispered, as the man’s head peeked into the hall and-

“Richie?” he asked, grinning, “Are you stalking me?” Richie spluttered, having no idea what to say and hoping to GOD Eddie didn’t look down because he was drunk and still turned on and OH MY GOD.

“Um, no? I was…” he trailed off and pointed to Maura’s apartment and Eddie looked at her door before laughing once.

“You were on a date with Maura?”

“I wouldn’t call it a date... exactly...” Richie said, because he really liked the taste of his fucking foot apparently. Eddie choked on a laugh and covered his mouth to quiet it.

“She has a boyfriend. You know that, yeah?” Richie sighed loudly.

“Where were you an hour ago? Yes! I know that now, thank you!”

“He’s a Trump supporter.” Eddie said and Richie glared, “You’re eskimo brothers with a Trump Supporter.” Eddie deadpanned and Richie flipped him off.

“Shut the fuck up! I didn’t fuck her! Why do you think I’m out _here_? And not in _there_?” Richie squeaked, making Eddie laugh again. Then Eddie did the worst thing he could do; he looked Richie up and down, mouth opening in surprise.

“_Oh_. You’re right, you left in quite a hurry too, didn’t you?” Eddie teased and Richie flipped him off with his other hand too.

“Fuck right the fuck off,” Richie laughed, “Oh my GOD! What the fuck… Tell me, Eddie, _why_ are you always here to witness me right after my bad dates?” Eddie’s laughter trailed off as he considered the question, leaning against his door frame and smiling at Richie.

“It can’t just be coincidence, can it?” Eddie mused and Richie scoffed.

“Once is a stranger. Twice is a coincidence. _Three times_ is a pattern.” Richie quoted… and yes, that was a quote from a novel about a teenage girl spy, but Eddie didn’t need to know that.

“Well, I think the first time was coincidence. Every time after that… is probably the universe telling you that you should’ve asked me out the first time.” Eddie smirked. Richie gaped, knowing his mouth was opening and closing like a fish, looking for what to say.

“Are you serious?” Richie asked, and he was just about to ask, about Don and the RING and his PARTNER, when there was a loud stumbling on the stairs, laughter echoing through the halls.

"Oh, great. That'll be Don." Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"What?" Richie asked, shocked. Fuck he didn't wanna meet- wait, _WHAT_?

_That_ was Don? The guy laughing and stumbling and MAKING OUT with someone else? They didn't even seem to notice Richie, caught up in their own little world. As they stumbled by him, Richie took a step closer, trying to get a better look, but their locked lips and Richie’s alcohol-addled brain made it hard to notice anything specific.

They stopped and separated when Don bumped into Eddie at the door, who was standing there, blocking the entrance with a cocked hip. When they finally stopped kissing, Richie was able to see their faces and- OH SHIT.

"ADRIAN?" Richie shouted. Adrian turned his head and his eyes widened.

"Richie?" He shouted back, confused.

“Eddiiiiie.” Don stretched the word out, to Eddie’s amusement.

“Don.” Eddie said at the door, smug, “well now that everyone knows each other’s name-“

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Adrian asked, cutting Eddie off because he was still staring at Richie.

“What am _I _doing here?” Richie emphasized.

“Oh so you guys know each other?” Eddie asked, to no response yet again.

“What are YOU doing about to fuck Eddie’s husband?” Richie continued, in an embarrassing squawk. His words caused a bit of an uproar.

“Husband?” All three of them echoed at once, Adrian immediately pushing out of Don’s arms and glaring at him. Eddie stepped further into the hall and turned to look completely at Richie.

“_You think Don is my husband_?”

“You think I’m MARRIED TO EDDIE?” Don asked, shocked and red-faced, “Who even ARE you?”

“You’re _not_ married to Eddie?!” Richie asked, brain aching from this new information and the rush of alcohol leaving his body. He needed everything to slow down.

“No! He is not! Why the fuck would you think that?” Eddie asked, voice also unnaturally high.

“Oh my God, this is THAT Eddie?!” Adrian laughed and Richie just glared at him before looking back at Eddie.

“You were _wearing_ a _ring_!! You called him your partner for fuck’s sake!” Richie explained and Eddie threw his hands in the air, groaning.

“My BUSINESS partner! We WORK together! Oh my GOD Richie!”

“What- l mean, how was I supposed to know that?” Richie spluttered.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe you could’ve ASKED?”

"Eddie my man next time do your local dumbass comedian a favor and pepper in the fact that you are single and dtf. Please." 

"You're ridiculous."

"I'M ridiculous? Eddie, I couldn't ask that! That would’ve been so weird! _Uhh hey, Eddie umm you’re wearing a ring, does that mean you’re married or just engaged or just playing fucking DRESS UP_?”

“I was wearing a ring because it keep creeps away at the bar! And _YES_! That is a VERY common question I get! And then when I’m interested in a guy, I say, _oh that’s just to keep guys I’m not INTERESTED in away _and then I_ TAKE IT OFF TO SHOW I AM INTERESTED_! It’s a _very_ good move! I’ve had LOTS of success with it!” Eddie shouted, poking Richie in the chest for emphasis. He’d slowly stomped closer to Richie throughout the speech and now they were toe-to-toe.

“Oh.”

“Yes. _Oh_.” Eddie said, huffing and crossing his arms, “I would’ve done that for you. But you didn’t... I thought you didn’t like me.” He seemed hurt, upset and Richie cringed.

“I did! I _DO_. I just thought...”

“You thought I was FUCKING married.” Eddie said, laughing suddenly and covering his face.

“You should’ve heard him mope about you.” Don cut in, speaking over Adrian’s shoulder. Apparently they’d reconciled as Eddie and Richie argued, because they were glued together again, Don’s arms wrapped around Adrian’s hips as they watched the show.

“Oh fuck, Richie was worse - I _guarantee_.” Adrian huffed and Richie flipped him off casually.

“If I’d known... fuck, Eddie, I would’ve asked you out like... so hard.” Richie insisted and Eddie smiled reluctantly.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” Adrian cut-in and Eddie turned around to face him.

“He was fucking my neighbor.” Eddie stated smugly. Richie choked on a laugh and then groaned in embarrassment.

“Oh _shit_.” Adrian responded and Eddie nodded.

“Yeah, he was fucking my neighbor and then realized she had a boyfriend so... he left. In the middle, I assume, which, good for you. Kudos there.”

“Thank you.” Richie said with a tip of his proverbial hat, “it wasn’t easy but let it be known that Richie Tozier can turn down pussy for principle.”

“Wow. _Wow_,” Eddie replied, then turned back to Adrian, “so he left in the middle, dick still hard, and then he knocked on _my_ door. Which... actually, I still don’t know why you did that. Richie?”

“Right,” Richie said. He held out a finger, moving to pull his phone out of his pocket, to show it was dead, and when he clicked the side button... the screen flashed on, showing 15% battery. He grinned at the irony and shook his head, pocketing the phone again, “Um… the universe told me to.” He lied, just to make Eddie smile.

It worked.

***

Richie plugged his phone into Eddie’s charger and then sat with a small huff on his bed. He was in the kitchen, getting Richie some water because he was an actual angel. A SINGLE angel. God, Richie felt like such a fucking idiot. Bev was going to _die_ when Adrian told her. Richie took a moment to look around Eddie’s bedroom as he waited. It was nice, looked a lot like Eddie. It was well-organized but still lived in, the hamper half full and the dresser neatly cluttered with different moisturizers and brushes.

Cute.

“Hey, how you feeling?” Eddie asked as he re-entered the room, carrying a glass of water and a handful of ibuprofen. Richie took them gratefully. He threw back the pills and chugged the water before he answered.

“I’m only slightly mortified. I think the slowly fading buzz helped ease the sting of my idiocy.” Richie admitted. Eddie smiled and took the empty glass from him, setting it on his dresser. Then he moved and stood right in front of Richie, who was still perched on the edge of his bed.

“I can’t believe the whole time we were flirting THAT HARD, you thought I was fucking married.” Eddie muttered, laughing. Richie groaned and collapsed back on the bed, sprawling out. Eddie laughed louder and grabbed his arms, pulling him back up.

“Don’t worry, Adrian will never let me live it down.”

“_Good_.” Eddie said as he gently adjusted Richie’s glasses, which had gone askew in his fall back. Eddie stared at him for a moment, fond, and he kept one hand on Richie’s cheek, “I wanted you to ask me to stay.” He whispered and Richie tilted his head into his hand.

“Hmm?”

“In the bar, that first night. I would’ve stayed, if you’d asked.” Eddie admitted, cheeks slightly flushed, “I was so sure you liked me… and then you just let me leave. You really fucked with my head, Rich.”

“I’m a fucking idiot,” Richie said immediately. Eddie shook his head but Richie kept on, “I was so gone on you, the moment I sat next to you. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. When I saw you at the ice rink… I thought I was dreaming.”

“Yeah, it was too good to be true, running in to you in a city of like 8 million people.” Eddie agreed. His smile was so perfect, it made Richie’s head spin, “But, we can put that behind us now, yeah?” Richie nodded and moved his hands to hold Eddie’s hips.

“_Please_.” They both leaned forward and Richie’s heart started beating in overtime. But, right before their lips could meet, Eddie leaned his forehead against Richie’s and ran one thumb over Richie’s lips.

“If you think we’re having our first kiss when you still smell like Maura’s pussy, you’re fucking crazy.” Eddie whispered and Richie pulled away, standing up quickly and rubbing a hand other his mouth.

“OH, um…” Richie spluttered, but Eddie was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, face calm and smug, “Bathroom?”

“First door on your right.” Eddie replied, pointing in the direction. Richie nodded, rushed out of the room, swung a right, and ran to the bathroom. He ran his face under the cold water and scrubbed with one of the towels hanging on the rack. Then, he rummaged as quickly through the cupboards as he could, looking for mouthwash. When he found some, he swished it around as fast as he could and then went to run back.

But he paused first, one more time, to fix his hair in the mirror. It was fine. Good as it was gonna get.

So he ran back out. He almost went in the wrong door, but the very distinctive sounds of Adrian and Don warned him before he could make the mistake of opening that nightmare. He turned around, went the other way, and found his way back to Eddie, who was sprawled out on the bed, scrolling on his phone. He looked up when Richie walked back in and smiled.

“Aww, your cheeks are all red. Cute.” Eddie said and Richie rolled his eyes, but climbed on top of him on the bed, leaning down and putting a hand on his neck, tilting his jaw up. Eddie’s hands wrapped around his shoulders and gripped tight as he made a happy humming noise that Richie felt move all the way through him. Richie moved his lips closer, but Eddie turned his head to the side.

“Still not gonna happen.” He said and Richie groaned, resting his head on Eddie’s neck, “You were literally, less than an hour ago, about to fuck a random girl! You’re gonna have to suck it up and wait for a more romantic moment, asshole.” Eddie explained and he was right. So, so completely right, Richie knew that. He did, it made sense. He didn’t wanna kiss Eddie like this either… but _fuck that_, yes he did. He wanted to kiss him so bad, nothing else mattered.

_But_… he wasn’t a creep. If Eddie didn’t want to kiss him, they wouldn’t kiss. End of story. Richie pulled back and rested their foreheads together for a moment before moving off of him, lying down next to him against the headboard.

“Fine, Eddie, your call,” Richie said. And as he laid there, looking at the ceiling and glancing at Eddie glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, he thought of Eric… God Richie was an asshole, “I mean… I totally get it. I’d be scared too.”

“What?” Eddie asked, eyebrows high in confusion, “_Scared_? Of fucking _what_?”

“Well, she was a really good kisser. You’re probably worried I’ll compare you two and you might not measure up and-”

“You fucking asshole.” Eddie snapped, before throwing a leg over Richie’s hips and straddling him swiftly. Then he took Richie’s jaw firmly in his hand and leaned in as close as he could get. Richie gasped and it left his mouth open, Eddie’s pinching fingers not letting him snap it closed.

Eddie’s lips weren’t touching his, they weren’t, but they were so _fucking close_ Richie was desperate for it. He wanted to squirm, move forward and take, but Eddie had an impressive grip. And he wouldn’t budge.

“You’re playing a dangerous, fucking, game, baby,” Eddie punctuated each pause with a soft kiss, to the corner of Richie’s mouth, to his cheekbone, to the edge of his jaw. Then he was whispering right in his ear, “And you’ll lose every time, Rich.” He bit down on Richie’s ear, tugging slightly, tongue tracing the edge and then-

Nothing. He hopped off Richie and pulled the blanket over the both of them, reaching over to switch the bedside lamp off.

“What the fuck.” He managed, disoriented.

“Come on, Rich. I’m tired. Cuddle me.” Eddie demanded, and Richie was pretty helpless to follow. He was so fucking turned on and completely overjoyed at how he’d underestimated Eddie. They settled into a comfortable position, curled around each other, Eddie tucked firmly into the curve of Richie’s body.

“Will I get a morning kiss?” Richie asked after a while. Eddie snorted in response and then reached a hand back to rub gently at Richie’s neck.

“If you’re lucky.” Fair enough. He felt like his odds were good – he’d been pretty fucking lucky lately.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!!! [come say hi](https://themightychipmunk.tumblr.com/) and let me know if you have any meet cute ideas??? i'm having so much fun writing again :D
> 
> (UNRELATED, but y'all i'm watching love island right now as i post this and i am REELING!!! this shit is SO DRAMA!!!!!)
> 
> Also!! I should say these are not all my characters!!! I used some from Check Please and Maura is absolutely based off my favorite/least favorite Love Island contestant so. I did not make these characters at ALL


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